I'm sorry, in advance.

Since my late 20's I've been volunteering at adoption agencies. I did this with the deep need to connect with the birthmothers, the ones that had already placed their children. As the years went on, my interests began to change. I became more interested in the girls that were still on the fence, the ones that were undecided. The social workers felt, as an advocate for adoption, that I was the perfect person for them to talk with when they asked questions about what life would look like later.  Because, you see, every one of them need to know the truth. But, the truth is, they are never given that information upfront. They never wanted me alone with the girls. They would de-brief me before each meeting. I felt it. I knew what they were implying and that they had their own hidden agenda. The last agency I went to didn't provide counseling for the girls, either during their pregnancy, or most importantly, after placement. Astounded, I asked them "WHY?!!!", their response was that, "none of them ever showed up".  What my mind screamed was, 'That's because they're curled up in the fetal position somewhere, unable to get up off the ground!' 

I've been surrounded by adoption. I have many close family members and friends that have adopted, both domestic and international. Adoption is celebrated. I was told that adoption is the "best option" for an unplanned pregnancy. That's not true. The "best option" are that a mother and child are together. If the mother can't do it on her own, then family needs to step up and do everything possible to make sure the mistake doesn't become an inhumane punishment. I don't actually understand how anyone can have an opinion on this if they have never been adopted or placed a child for adoption. 

I've had a lot of push back when I voice these truths. But, the fact is, I don't care. Unless you've been on the other side, you have no idea what you're talking about. For the adoptive families, the adoption agencies, the adoption lawyers, the social workers... they ALL have one common agenda: To Get That Baby. Now, I do believe there are prospective adoptive parents out there with beautiful intentions. They want children, they've struggled with infertility, they want ethnic diversity (international adoptions), etc. Some are even willing to take a child with special needs (not many, mind you. I went through every profile at the last agency. Most want a perfectly healthy, white infant). Baby shopping. I also believe that there are certain circumstances where adoption might be in the best interest of the child. But, there aren't many. Orphans, for example. Even still, are there no other family members? And, let's not forget to prove they're orphans to begin with.. But, these prospective adoptive families just don't know, and, they really, really want a baby. They'd rather have their own, but if they can't, they'll gladly raise someone else's.

When a child is taken from its mother, the problem isn't fixed. In that single moment, when the irrevocable surrender is signed, the problem has just become so much larger than life. You've set into motion something that can never be undone, and I will never again say it's okay.

I'll leave you with this quote:

"Adoption loss is the only trauma in the world
where the victims are expected by the whole of society
to be grateful."

The Reverend Keith C. Griffith, MBE

Why I Support Adoptee Rights

Why I Support Adoptee Rights

Surrender

In 1990, open adoption was a relatively new concept. It was just becoming another option in the adoption process, considered quite progressive at the time. When I placed my daughter, I had agreed on letters and pictures for the first two years. After nine months had passed, the adoptive parents contacted the agency expressing an interest in seeing me. I was hesitant, only because I knew it would be difficult, but I also knew I really wanted to see my baby girl. My heart won the battle and we met the following week. Seeing her destroyed me and rescued me at the same time. Her nine month old eyes already knew me when I held her in my arms. She was mine and we both knew it. Her parents and I became the poster family for Open Adoption. We spoke around the country at adoption panels and agencies to promote the concept. It became cathartic for me. I'm a terrible public speaker. The only thing I remember about those engagements was trying not to cry.

Fast forward 25 years later, after the Disney vacations together, after she was the flower girl in my wedding (and my best friends wedding), after she was there to meet her newborn half sister and brother, after I sat through her graduation, after she told me I was going to be a grandmother... we've never missed those moments in each others lives. It hasn't always been easy. There has been jealousy, natural jealousy, on both sides. Me, watching another family raise my child. Her, watching me be a mother to her siblings. Heartbreaking. But, she loves her family. She's well adjusted (more than most adoptees I know). She's happy.

She's having a baby in May. A girl. She and her husband are going to be wonderful parents. However, it's another break in the natural flow. This pregnancy has resurfaced the loss for me. I won't be 'grandma' in the traditional sense, and it makes me unbelievably sad. I didn't see this coming. I wasn't even thrilled when she told me she was pregnant. I was all offended, like, 'How can she be doing this to me?!'. I got over it, obviously. Now, I swear I love that baby like it's my own, you'd think I was the one pregnant.

This is adoption. These are the visible cracks; the wounds that spill out all over the place, when all you're trying to do is make it as normal as possible. But, you can't. It's irretrievably broken. 

Who Am I?

Currently, in the state of New York all adoption records are sealed. Several states have changed this law, which enables adoptees to have access to their original birth certificate (OBC). This simple piece of paper is something most of the general population take for granted. With this piece of paper you're given your identity. It's a doorway to discover medical information and family history that an adoptee would never have otherwise. The amended birth certificate is an alias, filled in with made up information. It gives my adoptive parents names, the new name they chose for me, the (supposed) city of my birth, and my (supposed) date of birth. That's it. It's like the Witness Protection Program.


Over the years, my search has taken me down rabbit trails that always have a dead end. I've hired a private investigator, national search and reunion companies, registered with every database, etc. I've heard stories of other adoptees that have had luck with some of these, but I haven't been so lucky.


Last month I took a DNA test. It took about three weeks for my results. When I opened the email, I was literally shaking. As I sat there, absorbing the percentages of each region, the feeling was surreal. It felt like I was being formed; becoming a real person. It was more information than I've ever known about myself. Throughout my life people have asked me, almost daily, what nationality I am. My response has always been the same, " I was adopted, I have no idea." This DNA test also confirmed that the non-identifying information I received from the state of New York was inaccurate. Or, perhaps it was the information my mother gave the agency that was inaccurate. Either way, there's more to this story. I need to meet her. She placed me for adoption when she was 19. I placed my daughter when I was 19. The irony isn't lost on me.

I recently wrote (handwritten!) letters to each assemblyman in New York, pleading with them to pass this law (http://assembly.state.ny.us/leg/?bn=A02901). Until this happens, I'll remain in the dark, drawing lines through the medical history portion at doctors offices. I want, no... I need to do more.  I need to be more involved in this process. I encourage anyone that supports adoptee rights to take this challenge: http://www.nyadoptionequality.com/take-the-%e2%80%8esimplepieceofpaper%e2%80%ac-challange/

I'm not sure where this journey is taking me but I no longer want to sit back and wait for things to happen. I just figure, if we all scream loud enough then maybe they will listen.  

My New Perspective

So, it was my birthday a couple of days ago. 45. And, the strangest thing has been happening during this last year. I'm not quite sure what to do with it, so I've decided to write. I've come out of the adoption closet, so to speak. I've always been a huge advocate of adoption, being that I'm adopted AND I've placed a child for adoption (and I was a surrogate for my best friend, but that's a different blog post). 

My entire life I've been told that I should be grateful; that I was adopted by such a wonderful family (it's true, they are), that I found such wonderful parents to raise my daughter (it's true, they are), that I didn't have to struggle being a single mom, that I get to know my daughter...etc. The truth is, I had no choice. No one asked me if I wanted to be taken from my birthmom, that story was written without my permission and no one prepared me for the trauma caused by giving my daughter away. The social workers just told me that it was a selfless decision, that it will be hard but I will move on and have my whole life in front of me. As if, with enough time, I'll forget it ever happened. How it really works is like this: no amount of therapy, marriage or more children, or medication, or exercise, or wine...or..anything will ever make it better. They never told me there would be moments, even at 45, where you can't breathe because you miss her so much. And, because of this, I can no longer support adoption as the best option for an unplanned pregnancy. Adoption is not God's plan. A mother with her child, is.

Syracuse, New York 1970. This was before Roe v. Wade passed in 1973, so adopting a child was a pretty painless process. The pregnant girls were often shipped off to unwed homes where they were hidden from society and unsuspecting family members. Only to return several months later to resume life as normal, as if nothing ever happened. http://thegirlswhowentaway.com/

I grieve for them, for my mother. And, I don't find it that dissimilar to my experience 20 years later. Sure, I didn't have to go hide, and I even felt like most people were supportive and treated me with respect for making a "brave decision", but I was told the same thing. That someday I would be fine. Sweep it under the carpet.

For years I've been volunteering at adoption agencies. Mostly because I wanted to hug the birthmoms; to encourage them. Two weeks ago, I quit my volunteer gig at a local agency. I'll never go back to another one. This is what has struck me the hardest: they never wanted me alone with the girls. They never wanted me to "discourage" adoption, even if I felt the girls should keep THEIR child. The bottom line is this- adoption agencies want those babies. It's how they pay their bills. They wanted me to be an example of "look how great your life will be someday!" but, ultimately, they wanted me to keep my mouth shut.

I struggle with this post; the tone I want it to have. I DO have a happy life. I DO have so much to be thankful for, and I am. While it sounds like I'm bitter, I don't walk around with cynicism. I'm both/and. I love my family and the life I have, AND I grieve the loss I've had because of adoption.